Host of the Deathgames
by Corherpek And.55
Summary: What common thing could ever be between the energetic, shiny Caesar Flickerman and the boring, drunk mentor Haymitch Abernathy...?


It was past midnight but Haymitch was awake, as always actually..

Since that damn reaping day of the 50th Hunger Games his dream world wasn't the best place to dwell in. Full of ghosts and darkness it was.

His parents, his girlfriend, his entire world... Shattered in a few minutes..

Ruins.

Just ruins and flying memories.

With just a bored simple glimpse of his empty eye.

Snow..

He took the liquor bottle and swallowed...

A tear appearing reluctantly in his eye.

From the abrupt movements of his, from being overwelmed with emotion?

Who knows?

And who cares actually?

In this world where everything's artficial... In this world where something as pure and natural as a feeling doesn't belong..

Who is he to disagree?

So he has found salvation in drinking. Slipping into this fake world where feelings and dreams are feasting together. Where he could be happy and calm again. Where he could see his beloved ones.

His senses stretched from the liguor, he could heard the tiniest sound around the twelfth floor of the Capitol building and he could tell that someone was wandering into their floor right now.

"Damn you Heymitch.. Were you trying to...?"

It was Ceasar Flickerman. Pure, burning anger rushed through his body...

"Trying to what Flicky? Scare you to death, so for all your fake hair to fall? Believe me, I don't want to see you after all those interventions you 've been under!" he replied harshly, his eyes flaming with a hatred as destroying as fire, towards this Capitol ally.

"Were you spying on us you filthy mouthpiece? What? Do you want to see how District Twelve's famous tributes are living? As an issue for your stupid shows?" Heymitch continued, while he couldn't see Flickerman yet as he was in darkness.

"I am not a mouthpiece of Capitol. I am just Caesar Haymitch.. Just me.. Even if everyone's thinking of me as a monster.."

He got out from the dark and Haymitch saw him.

He was hardly recognizable..

He had no make up or paint on him.

His long hair were fixed in their typical ponytail, but in a much more natural color, which had to be his own: a warm golden brown which reminded Haymitch of the trees planted outside his home. A few parts still had a slight shade of electronic blue.

He wore a simple black jean and a red shirt.

"It's me Hey." Caesar said smiling and his ability of humorizing was shown to the nickname he gave to Haymitch.

"Then what the hell are you searching for here? Lamb stew maybe since it's your favourite?" Haymitch continue to make sarcasm out of the situation.

"Just wanted to take fresh air, if it isn't forbidden sir." Caesar tossed back Haymitch's sarcasm.

"From when is Capitol having fresh air? I want you to show me the place.. Anyway Flick aren't you already used to your artificial life? Even air is fake here so you can deal with it."

Their discussion was based to one another hurting the other and returning the sarcastic, bitter comments.

But Caesar wasn't in the mood. Haymitch didn't want to speak it out loud, but he seemed...tired.

Like all the energy he has at his shows was now gone.

Like he's leaving it there.

For the shows. For his meetings with...

"I don't think you ever had such problem. One of the qualities the districts provide is this.. " Caesar replied calmly getting Haymitch out his thoughts, pissing him of for that.

"Like you care.. Or are you in need of air? The people who need fresh air are pressured and in need of a relief.. In need of something to keep them walking. People with problems and feelings!"

"And I don't belong to them, huh? You don't know the least about me Heymitch Abernathy." Caesar snapped quietly but Haymitch hasn't felt more threatened ever before.

He was searching for a sarcastic reply to snap at him so that he could defend himself, but his mind was blank now.

"Do you know how I have ended up as the host of the DEATH-games?"

He was calm now, but still tense and somewhat depressed. And did he just said Death-games? Wasn't he thinking of them as just another show?

"I am the winner of the 10th Hunger Games Abernathy.. The winner of the 10th Death-Games.."

"What are you talking about?"

Haymitch knew he was already drunk, but this was far beyond any dream made of alcohol..

"Are you duff? I am the male tribute from district 1 who won the 10th Hunger Games.. But you know Hey, I wasn't enough for the Capitol standards. District 1 you see.. They expected me to be a blood-thirst monster, a killing machine.. But I wasn't. When I won with a way similar to yours, due to my intelligence, I just wanted to go home. Back to my family, my previous life. But I was forced to leave my home. The ones I love.. They got me here and made me mentor of children sent to death every single year. I knew them, they were friends of mine and I was forced to see them dying or winning with brutal ways. They were getting back to the District, back home while I was trapped here..."

Haymitch couldn't believe what he was listening.

He knew it was the pure truth, nothing less, nothing more..

Cause they are sharing the same feelings right now.

All this time actually.

The energetic and funny host and the drunk, mentor from District 12.

Forced out of their worlds, their beloved ones dead and for what?

"They just told me that I had to do this, so that I could survive.. They fixed my body so that my age-passing is slowing down and other freaky things... As time was passing, I learnt to deal with it. I accepted it.. Learned to live and survive inside my cage."

His voice was trembling, not from something else, but anger..

Haymitch wondered how long has Caesar been hiding those feelings from the world..

From his own self.

"They told me I was going to be the host of the next Hunger Games after years of mentoring tributes from my district. Each year the color I was painted into was changing. They didn't want me to get boring or the show to be predictable or anything.. So I had to be unique and shiny each year. But they didn't instruct me for anything so I decided to do my job as I wanted to."

They were now sitting at the Capitol building's roof with the flowers behind them and the view of the mountains surrounding the city like a fortress, making them the crucial factor for the rebellion not to succeed.

Years ago..

"I decided to turn the audience's attention towards the children. I decided to bring out the best of them.. So that the sponsors could remember them and help them survive. I tried to make myself their first mean of staying alive. I remember the names of each and everyone one of those children.. For me they weren't winners or losers or faces in the sky of a fake arena. For me they were myself. A boy from district 1. Trying to get back home.. Trying to survive. I have learnt that it's easy or at least bareable to live inside a cage when you have company.. And these children were mine. It was helpful anyway.. It helped me forget. Forget my beloved ones, my lost world, my home... "

Ceasar stopped for a moment and Haymitch could understand him completely right now.

And maybe now Ceasar's wish was coming true.

Now he was just another boy from district 1 talking to another boy from district 12.

"I was, I am and I will always be willing and determined to show those children what's worth fighting for in life.. Show them what they stand for. Trying to make them laugh and be happy, social and interactive.. Maybe for one last time. For the most of them it was their last time.."

Haymitch finally spoke now feeling something new towards the host of the Hunger Games.

"Since you have found something worth fighting for it's easy to pass it to others. Nothing's stronger than a person having something worth fighting for."

Caesar looked at him and smiled.

Haymitch smiled back.

Caesar then silently as he came walked out and dissaperead through the building.

Haymitch started heading towards his bedroom, but he first went and took a look at Katniss's bedroom.

And there they were wrapped in each others arms.

Katniss and Peeta.

Like one body..

Their faces were calm, they seemed serene and the way the one had embraced another was showing a tenderness Haymitch hasn't saw before.

He closed the door silently thinking his own worlds.

_"Nothing's stronger than a person having something worth fighting for.."_

Hoping his words were true he heard to a mockingjay singing from somewhere afar.

From the direction of District 1.


End file.
